


Late Night Homework

by ChaoticTwist



Category: Beetlejuice - All Media Types
Genre: Abandonment Issues, Comfort, Cuddling & Snuggling, Emotions, F/M, Fluff, Mentions of Death, Musicalbabes, Musicalverse, Pre-Slash, Thanks Beetlejuice, The Maitlands Are Mentioned, beetlejuice musical
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-30
Updated: 2019-10-30
Packaged: 2021-01-13 11:15:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21243182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChaoticTwist/pseuds/ChaoticTwist
Summary: Lydia gets sentenced to an evening of homework after the Maitlands finds out that she's been slaking off.You'd think a dead guy could stand to be alone for a single day.





	Late Night Homework

**Author's Note:**

> I'm a very active fanfic reader who doesn't actually have time to write myself. But I thought I'd give fanfic writing a try and see if I can hold one more ball up in the air without ruining my social life. Anyways I hope you enjoy my first published work!

The sun had gone down a few hours ago. The only lightsource came from Lydias bedside table that she used to give the room enough light for her to work on her schoolwork. Lydia is lying on her bed, her focus directed towards her notebook that lays supported on the pillows. 

She brings the end of her pencil to her mouth, twirling it between her teeth before biting down on it. She had been a bit bad at keeping up with her studies lately. It wasn't exactly her fault to be fair. A certain someone had not had the patience to wait a few hours a day after she came home. Not that she had complained, but the Maitlands had figured out what was happening and banned her from doing anything else before she had catched up on her work. 

Lydia sighed, rubbed her eyes and spit out the pencil, the words in her notebook all blend together to form an unreadable mess. She squints. How long had she been going for? The clock on her bedside table has the numbers 09:37 pm brightly displayed. Her forehead collides with her worksheet and she groans.

"That sounds like my cue!" And there he is, standing by the side of her bed like a genie who has just been summoned.

"Listen BJ, as much as I-"

"Ah-ah-ah, you said I'm allowed on your bed if I showered." He falls onto her bed and wraps his arms around her waist. "Even washed behind my ears!" Ever since he got to experience being human for a brief amount of time he had actually made an effort to stay -somewhat- clean. Despite not caring so much about his appearance he did at least that much.

"And you promised to not bother me when I'm doing homework," she countered.

"It's been 4 hours!" he exclaims, "4 hours of being watched like a dog by the Maitlands. Not that I dislike the undivided attention but even I have my limits." Betelgeuse peers over Lydias shoulder and eyes her worksheet. "Besiiiides-"

Lydia throws an arm over her work. "Oh no," she warns, "I know that face. Homework stays on the bed. If you think you can trick me into giving you attention you can think again."

"But you've been busy doing that god-awful school stuff all day! And I was forced to be alone even after you got home. It's been too long now!"

"Listen.. I have three tests next week and I need a passing grade," she paused, thinking, "Isn't there anything else you can do? If I can get some peace and quiet I might be able to have this finished by tomorrow." 

It was quiet for a while. She waited for a few seconds before removing her arm and returning her attention back to the question on the page. It wasn't that difficult of a question but her brain refused to put together the words into sentences. She tried to rub the sleep out of her eyes but her brain felt just as tired and numb as it had for the last hour. She could feel Betelgeuse shift and his cheek press down against her back.

"Lyyyyyydiaaa," he drawled, she could practically sense him pouting behind her back.

She decided to ignore him.

"Lyyyyyyyyds!"

"Beeeeeetlejuiceee." She mimicked in the same tone of voice. She feels him smile against her.

"That's it! Just give me two more, babes!" He presses forward and burries his nose in Lydias hair and blows air through his nose. She laughs and places a hand against his face in an attempt to push him away.

"Ooooh, and if I do? What are you gonna do, huh?" She leans on her elbow and turns her body to the side so she can look at him.

"I'll give ya a break from this work you've been slaving over."

Lydia sighes, she wasn't really in the mood for whatever antics he had in mind, "I'm too tired, Beetlejuice."

"Too tired for cuddles?" Well, that wasn't what she had expected, but to be fair, it was a tempting offer. And it didn't seem like he had anything malicious planned, but with him you could never be sure. Still, Lydia was tired and putting off all of the work for tomorrow sounded very tempting to her brain right now. Besides, knowing that those arms around her could be corporal with only two more takes of his name made her feel all lonely. Dammit, she didn't feel like being lonely right now. Well, It seems like she had made up her mind.

"Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice." She says it before she can come up with a counter argument. The bed dips from the sudden weight. She had expected him to practicly tear her away from her work, but was pleasantly surprised to see him waiting patienly by the foot of her bed. 

Lydia sat up and placed her work to the side on the bedside table. Her pillows moved on their own before Betelgeuse fell back on them with a light bounce. The bed wasn't big but had enough room to fit both of them, to an extent. Lydia moved to lay on her side in an attempt to take up as little space as possible.

"Heeey, no need for that-" He opens his arms and pulls her closer, practicly pushing her against his chest and- wait a moment. Lydia pulls away.

"Did you use my strawberry body soap when you showered?" Betelgeuse actually had showered like he said, and sure enough he smelled faintly like strawberries.

"Sure, I mean, I can't really appreciate the smell like you can. But since you use it you must like it," he said, as if it was completely normal to use other peoples body soap. To his credit, he did smell nicer than usual, which was saying a lot.

"Well, I appreciate the thoughtfulness."

"I also used a bunch of that conditioner stuff," he said gleefully, "It was really slippery and made my hair all glossy."

"That's not how you use conditioner, you aren't supposed to drench your hair in it," she states, then gives his words a bit more thought, "It better have only been in your hair. I will never be able to shower again if I heard that you did something creepy with my conditioner."

"Then I'm not saying," he snickers. She hits him playfully on the shoulder and laughs despite herself. 

She leans into his side, her cheek pressed against his chest as they settle into a comforting silence. Lydia tries looping an arm over him and it does feel nice. She turnes her head to press her nose against his chest, letting the smell of strawberries fill the air around her. She briefly wonders how much he had used. 

Betelgeuse suddenly lights up as if remembering something. "Hey Lydia, check this out." He unbuttoned the top buttons on his shirt and pulled it down to expose his chest which had a round bruised mark. "I only discovered this a few days ago, mainly because I never take my shirt off, but look! I got a mark where you stabbed me." He grinned at her. "Prettu cool, right."

Lydias smile dropped. Her hand had already reached out to trace a finger over the mark. It had a plastic-like texture, almost like plastic film that you put over leftovers before refrigerating them but smoother.

Betelgeuse continued on as if he hadn't noticed. "I mean, telling people I was murdered is much cooler than being a deadborn."

Lydia wasn't smiling. In fact, her brow was furrowed and it seemed like she wasn't listening to him at all. He brought her out of her trance when his hands reached up and started to button up his shirt.

"I think some of that feeling stuff stayed after I died," he laughed nervously, "I feel weird.."

She looked up at him. "Like a good weird?"

"Ah, no."

It got quiet again. Lydia felt Betelgeuse shift as if uncomfortable, leaning back just enough to create space between them. He opened his mouth as if to say something but closed it again, turning it into a cough. Lydia sunk back into her pillow, patiently waiting. It was best not to push it, there was a chance that he'd start to feel uneasy and excuse himself for the rest of the night if she did. Besides, he had a habit of opening up if he really wanted to say something. Betelgeuse glanced at her, his shoulders dropped slightly as he sighed.

"Dumb question but do you really see me as a bother?" he asked.

Lydia perked up. She quickly changed her position to lay on his chest, she took note of how Betelgeuses hands flew up to keep his shirt closed. She let one of her hands reaching up to twirl one of his messy curls between her fingers. She lets the question run through her mind a few times.

"Nah," she finally says, "You're fun to be around. Would be boring if you weren't here to liven things up around here from time to time." She lowered her head and yawned into the back of her hand, her other hand fell from his hair to his chest to support herself. 

"Tired?" Betelgeuse asks, "I didn't know you were so easy to tire out."

"Shut up, don't be a perv."

"I mean you lasted much longer during the few days we took over your house," he laughs.

"I had an extra energy rush from the independence at that time," she says, as if pointing out the obvious, "Plus sleep is for the weak. Long live sleep deprivation. It's the only relationship with sleep that I need."

"Hmm, I'm pretty sure sleep deprivation will lead you into an early grave if anything. Sounds like a toxic relationship." He's still grinning.

"Well we can't have that, can we." She rests her head on her arms and shuts her eyes. "I guess we'll just have to get comfortable then."

"Are you planning on using me as a pillow," he laughs, "I'm afraid it won't be all that comfortable, kid." 

"I'll suffer a cricked neck," she says dramaticly, opening on of her eyes to look at him. She smiles. "you'll leave if I don't."

"You want me to stay?" he asked.

"If you want to." 

Who was he to argue.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Feel free to leave a comment, I'm always looking to improve.


End file.
